


Your Petty Revenge May Be My Salvation

by rockin_kiwi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Magic!Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:49:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockin_kiwi/pseuds/rockin_kiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A witch decides to get revenge on Stiles for causing them the “Worst Month he has ever had”.  What the witch doesn't take into account?  Just how much havoc a nine year old Stiles can wreak with his 17 year old memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this AU starts essentially post Alpha Pack and Darach, but Derek doesn't lose his Alpha Powers and Boyd and Erica didn't die.  
> 1)This is my first fic. Con crit is awesome, but don't be a jerk. I haven't written anything in a really long time, but this is driving me insane.  
> 2) I have never seen the show, so I may get some of this wrong. I've read over a thousand Sterek fics, and while I feel I have a decent handle on it, that may be a blatant lie.  
> 3.) I have no beta, so let me know if I screwed up anything up too badly.

     “Eighth time this month, at this point the kid should be like, 'You know what? I don't want to hang from a tree anymore I think I'll avoid going into their territory.' But no. We have to get a dumb witch with absolutely no self preservation instinct and the want to provoke a pack of werewolves.” Twigs crack and leaves crackled under a lithe young mans feet as he headed into the woods. His pale skin was splattered with both moles and mud from an earlier tumble. His amber eyes were able to pick up the location of the tries in the bright moonlight, but the roots were a lost cause. Of course his flashlight had died about ten minutes ago. Tumbling over a root he slipped down into an embankment that lead into the clearing where the witch was trapped. Stiles flailed unexpectedly and caught himself on a tree. That was going to leave a mark.

    In the center of the clearing-seriously, it's in the center, how did that not scream 'Trap!'-there was a man hanging from a tree by his ankle. His face was a kind of alarming shade of red and there were almost growls(just almost, ok? Stiles spends all of his time with werewolves) escaping his throat. Sighing Stiles circled the tree and began to unwind the rope from a branch so he could lower the witch to the ground. Again. For the eighth. Time.

     “You know, if you'd stay out of pack territory, this wouldn't keep happening. Seriously dude, No where in the preserve has them, neither does town. It's not that complicated. Just stay off of pack land, and I won't have to keep coming out here to rescue you like i'm a fireman and you're a cat that keeps treeing itself.”

     The man, witch, shithead, whatever, spoke in a high voice to mimic Stiles, “If you'd stay out of pack territory.” He dropped his voice back down into its normal range, “This has to be the worst month of my life and you are making the recommendation that I stay off of pack land? If you didn't have these inane, useless, stupid, good for nothing traps I wouldn't have to be worrying about this little slice of hell.”

     Gritting his teeth Stiles gives a little slack to the rope, “Oh, I'm sorry. Our traps, on our land, which are used to deter trespassers, have made your last month a problem; If we'd know that they were all that it takes to make this 'the worst month of your life', we would have realized that you are just a child  with no concept of private property.” The rope strained against Stiles forearms as he slowly lowered the witch to the ground. At least this time he wore a flannel shirt, the rope burns from last week still hadn't completely healed yet. Originally they had decided to ignore the witch because the dude has like, no power, but if it keeps going the way it has been, Stiles was going to send Erica to retrieve the little bastard. He probably would skip town entirely. 

     The Witch's face seemed to take on a darker shade of red. “Now listen here you little piece of shit, I am not bound by the laws that you and your pathetic little pack of mutts are. If I want to go through your land I am going to go through your land and there isn't a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

     “Oh really?” Stiles asked flatly. He pursed his lips as he let go of the rope. There was a zipping sound followed by a solid thud as the witch's shoulder slammed into the ground. Almost instantaneously a green light flashed casting and earie glow over them. A sound of a canon, that wouldn't have been out of place in the Hunger Games arena startled a couple of birds out of the trees.

     The witch stood and smirked, his blond hair falling into his eyes. “How about you have a replay of the worst month of your life?”

      Stiles was able to restrain the eye roll. Barely. “Look Jackass, if you think getting stuck in our nonlethal, non-painful traps makes for the worst month of your life, you obviously haven't been living in this god forsaken town long enough. The next trap will remove appendages. Now scram.”

     The smirk on the witch's face faded into disappointment. With a dramatic huff, he turned towards the border and stormed off.

     Once the tingle that meant the witch had crossed the border rolled over Stiles skin, he turned back towards the Hale House. Considering he was no longer feeling considerate,or nice, about the trespassing infractions, Stiles was fairly certain he could talk Derek into making one of the puppies do the next witch drop. The bruises that he was getting gallivanting through the woods on his own plus the rope burns had caused Coach Finstock to have a deeply uncomfortable 'Safe, Sane and Consensual' talk with him earlier this week after lacrosse and Stiles wasn't really wanting to repeat the experience. If he implied that he would let the Coach think that Derek was his Dom, there is no way that Derek would send him out again. Less than two feet from where Stiles started there was a ripple of power under his feet. It had the distinct bass feeling of the Nementon. Adding that to the witch's earlier words, Stiles really should have known everything was going to go black.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap. I got a response! People *bookmarked* this. Like they want to continue reading it. There was squealing after that revelation, not gonna lie.  
> So, this chapter is super short, so I apologize, but the compulsive need to update and preen at the little success I've had was too strong for me to wait until I have the next part processed. RIght now, the next part metaphorically looks like a tornado hit it, so I've got to get into some sort of order before I can get it onto paper.

 

     The quiet rustling of sheets by Stiles head had him a bit confused; he could have sworn he'd just been out in the woods. Slowly the rest of his surroundings had begun to make themselves known. There was a clock ticking in the background and a fairly regular beeping sound off to his right. It probably says something about him that he could recognize that as a heart monitor without opening his eyes.

     That little twerp of a witch had enough power to  _ hospitalize  _ Stiles. What the Hell. Screw sending Erica next time, he was going to go ahead and send Derek. The feeling of pins and needles crawled up Stiles legs pulling him out of the vindictive thought processes of letting the alpha deal with the nuisance. He definitely was not in the right position to be sleeping in a hospital bed. As a matter of fact, judging by how his arms were crossed on the a bed and he was using them as a pillow, he was not the patient in this situation. How the hell did he get all the way to someone else's hospital room without remembering it? The only members of the pack that would warrant a hospital room were Lydia and Allison, neither of which were in town at the moment. If it were his dad, while Stiles was positive that it would have caused a probable panic attack, it would not have caused amnesia. Stiles squeezed his eyes more tightly shut attempting to remember what exactly happened.

     Suddenly there was a hand gently shaking him, “Come on kiddo, we agreed you could stay the night as long as you didn't wake her up in the morning.” Stiles let out a relieved breath as his dad's voice hit his ears. At least he no longer had to worry about him being hurt. 

     Blinking Stiles attempted to focus on his dad. Something just didn't look exactly... right. The sheriff still looked as though he carried the world on his shoulders(something that Stiles would always blame himself for), but there was less gray in his sandy blonde hair and the worry lines around his green eyes weren't quite as deep as Stiles remembered them being.

     Hurriedly Stiles looked down to count his fingers, but instead of finding the long fingers and broad palms he had grown accustomed to, he found tiny hands that were maybe half their size. His breath started to come in short burst as panic started to constrict his chest.

     “Come on,” His dad was pulling on the shoulder of his shirt. “We don't want to wake up your mom.”

     Stiles head shot up to his fathers face so he could tell him just how funny he wasn't when a flash of something caught his eye and he looked towards the bed. When he caught sight of the woman on the bed it was like someone had punched him in the chest. Her brown hair was spread out around her head, her lips were dry and cracked, and her skin was practically translucent. Had she opened her eyes Stiles amber eyes would be staring back at him. 

     “Mom?” Stiles whispered in a choked of gasped. Panicking Stiles stared back down at his hands, and while they weren't his fingers, all ten of them were present. He let out a shuddering breath and turned back to his father whom was handing him a stack of clothes. Taking them as the silent order that he knew they were, Stiles grabbed them and rushed into the bathroom to change. Stiles looked into the mirror before him with another shaky breath. Instead of the man he was becoming, the child he had been was staring out at him from the glass. Stiles wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but one thing was for sure; when this was over, he was going to get a hold of that witch and rip him limb from limb.

 

 

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for the length,but the next part should be much better.


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter I had changed my writingt process(a small part of what took so freaking long,mostly just because i had to buy a laptop) I need to know if it was as good as the other two, or if i need to go back the way I had been doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, guys, I'm sorry this took so long. This would have been up two weeks ago except some asshole totaled the passenger side of my car. Guess where my laptop was? Yeah. This didn't turn out as well as my original write but there isn't jack I cpould do about it. Sorry guys.

        Sighing Stiles looked out of the window of the cruiser to what had been(currently was?) his elementary school. He knew that arguing was futile; while his dad was(is? Fuck his life) lax about going to school while his mother was sick, he only got to ditch if his dad wasn't going into the station. Considering his dad had picked Stiles up during his lunch break, it was fairly obviously not one of those times.

         Stiles didn't want to go to school. He didn't want to be in the squad car, and he sure as hell didn't want to relive this shit.

        The cruiser slowed to a stop, as Stiles yanked his book bag out of the stairwell his dad cleared his throat. “I'm on shift until you get out of school today. Try not to drive your teacher too crazy kid.”

        Stiles gave a short nod, shrugged on his backpack and clambered out of the car. He wasn't all that aware if he was acting like he should be. Sure, he remembered this time span with way more clarity than he probably should, but the entire thing was tinged with grief. He couldn't remember how he acted before his mom's death because he didn't remember him, just her. Just how she deteriorated and how much more he should have appreciated the time that he had with her.

        Sighing he tightened his grip on the straps of his bag and started walking forward with the vague idea of finding Scott, or lord forbid, Jackson on the playground. There was no way in hell Stiles was going to be able to remember where his classroom was, and asking this late in the year would just concern the women at the front desk. There was absolutely no reason to have them send him to the counselor this early in the morning.

        It only took Stiles rounding on the jungle gym to spot Scott, and holy shit if that wasn't tripy. His dad hadn't looked all that different, sure a little younger, but Mom's sickness had already taken a lot out of him at this point. The mirror hadn't been that big of a deal either, because at some point Stiles had rationalized that he had found this face in the mirror plenty of times at one point. Scott though? Scott looked like a pint sized version of himself sitting on a bench glumly and taking a hit of his inhaler. Scott hasn't needed that inhaler in years. Not only has Scott not needed that inhaler in years, but even with all the shit that Beacon Hills has put him through, Scott hasn't looked that dejected since his dad left. If Stiles remembered correctly, that shouldn't happen for another year. Which probably meant that his parents were fighting again. Something about that had niggled at Stiles mind, but he let it go for the time being. He had much bigger things to worry about.

        Scott nodded to Stiles as he sat on the bench next to him. If it was odd that Stiles was being quiet, Scott didn't mention it.

        The quiet prevailed all the way until the blaring of the bell. Stiles attempted to stand up, only to stumble and fall flat on his face. Something that he'd been having trouble all morning was the way he fit into his body. He felt like he constantly needed to stretch, but he could only get so far. If he didn't know where his limbs ended before this whole debacle, when he got back into his own body(woke up from this?) he was never going to figure it out. Huffing, he stood up, dusted himself of and followed Scott into the building.

        So repeating the third grade with a 17 year olds brain? Kind of traumatizing. Apparently, he had never realized how many of the jokes his teacher made that were sexual innuendo. They went over everyone elses heads, but Stiles was having a hard time not cackling maniacally and running up for a high five.

        Considering the coursework though, Stiles had way more time to think of his predicament than he would probably like. The witch didn't have nearly enough power to actually send him back in time; that kind of magical ability generally only existed in beings hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. So Stiles was probably in a coma dream. This being a dream, did he have any control? Could he change the things that happened so he wouldn't have to relive them? Stiles shot a look at the calander at the front of the class. Oddly it was a few days until Scott's birthday, that was probably what his parents had been fighting about. A few days before Scott's birthday also meant that even if Stiles was

        Even if he was here for an entire freaking month, he wouldn't have to re-watch his mother die, so there was at least that. It also meant to start off his month of hell, he was probably going to get into a fight with Jackson at some point during the day, and his dad was going to yell at him for making life more difficult while his mother was dying. Up until this point in time, there had been a general case of denial going on with the Stilinski clan. It also meant that he had about a three days until his mother stopped calling him Stiles, a week until she didn't recognize him, and three weeks until she forgot about his existence entirely. Stiles idly wondered if going to see Deaton in this dreamscape would be helpful. Maybe it'd help his subconscious could come up with a way out.

 

        There was a shuffling that caused stiles to actually zone back into his surroundings, the rest of the kids were lining up to get out of the classroom. Now Stiles remembered that the fight that he had with Jackson was at recess, it was just one of those little details that stuck, what he didn't remember was when recess was. He was hoping to whatever higher power that was out there, that it was later rather than sooner. If he can't change the dream it shouldn't be that big of a deal, he'll just wind up in the right place and say the right things no matter what happened. If he can? He has no fucking clue where he is supposed to be right now, and while avoiding the fight with Jackson may change the discussion with his dad later, him turning up missing during the school day was going to cause a completely different issue.

 

        And because Stiles life sucked, and it hated him, of course he had gym at nine o'clock in the morning. NO wonder his dad had been so pissed at him when he was a kid, he'd only been at school an hour when he decided to pull this shit. Stiles would have been angry too. He couldn't remember if he was supposed to be-line for the monkey bars, or if he just did it because Jackson did, either way he was there. Instead of getting on the bars and going in the opposite direction, which Stiles distinctly remembered doing, he stood on the ground were Jackson would dismount. Jackson's face got redder, and redder as he got closer to where Stiles was standing. When he got to the end he fell in front of Stiles with a puff of sand that made both of them cough. Jackson's face scrunched up in anger, but before he could get a word in edgewise Stiles opened his mouth.

        “You know, most parents get stuck with whatever kid they have, and probably wish to turn them in for a new one. I know my dad does sometimes. Your parents chose you. How cool is that?” Before Jackson could gather his wits, Stiles did an 180 and walked away, missing the look of aw on Jackson's face. Stiles had gotten **maybe** five feet before a dizzy spell brought him to his knees. He clutched his head as his entire world view shifted. He was no longer on the same paradigm, and it was difficult to think of Jackson as the kanima. Stiles let out a broad grin. He was going to find Deaton, if only to confirm what just happened. IF what Stiles thought just happened, actually just happened, he was going to need the emissary for more than just waking him up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one. Within the next couple of chapters the Hale's should be getting involved, so that is fun. 
> 
> Sorry if this sucks, I know where I want it to go, I just have no idea how to get it there without it feeling really freaking choppy. 
> 
> Oh! Thanks to iMOCKusALL for the editing advice, it has been changed.

        So here is the thing; Stiles may be lucid dreaming. For a spell that is supposed to torture him for the next month, that seems like a pretty stupid loophole to give him. It's not really torture if he can just decide not to go to the hospital at certain times to avoid certain reactions. While he acknowledges that would be fucking stupid, the other option is way less believable. The amount of power it would take to time travel (he knows, he's looked into it) is way more than anyone person can produce. It would take a good portion of the fae realm to make that feasible. So, yeah, the lucid dreaming makes way more sense.

 

        That doesn't mean that he isn't going to ignore the possibility that somehow his consciousness time traveled back 8 years. **God** his dad must be freaking out right now. Not only his dad, but the pack must be ballistic. He wouldn't be surprised if he got back and the witch was a pulpy mess somewhere.

        Anyway, back to the main problem, if he changes something in this dream, is he going to remember what really happened when he gets back to being 17 year old? Sure, right now he remembers that there was a fight. That Stiles completely _lays out_ Jackson after what he said about  Mom. He remembers giving a nine year old Jackson a concussion and a black eye. What he isn't remembering? How long Jackson was a kanima for, or exactly what shade his scales were. The major stuff is still there, the pool the police station, just not anything that he would have to concentrate to remember. Not to mention, what the hell does this do to the dream? He no longer has a huge fight with Jackson, does that mean his dad doesn't yell at him tonight, or does it just change what he's yelling about? Stiles really doesn't want to have to relive that particular nightmare inducing memory.

         Of course, because the combination of Stiles natural curiosity and the he has work that's meant to be for a nine year old, the school day drug on for years. His constantly watching the clock, and the lack of adderall (which he hadn't been prescribed yet, yay!) was bad enough to make Mr. Mann twitch. By the time that the bell rang Stiles was willing to bet that his teacher was conjuring up plans to sedate him.

        Turns out that running out to the car wasn't actually an improvement.  Dad was way more somber on the ride to the hospital than he was to school this morning. Actually wait, that was the vet clinic. That was definitely not on the way to the hospital, “Dad where are we going?”

        His dad caught his eye before turning to look back out the windshield, “We are going home. The nurses don't think that your mom is up to seeing you today.”

        The breath constricted in Stiles chest, “Up to seeing me? She was OK yesterday.”

        “Yeah, well kiddo, Today is not yesterday.” His dad's jaw was clenched as well as his hands. Whatever had happened today, he had already sort of known, was apparently horrible even if you didn't include the Jackson fight.

       Oh god had he upped the time table? “Is she going to be OK to see me tomorrow?”

        Dad continued to stare out the windshield without making eye contact, “I don't really know bud.”

       Stiles took a deep breath in as he felt his eyes stinging; His first go around, he hadn't been allowed to see her after the fight either. He had always just assumed that it was because he was in trouble. SO much for that theory.

        The rest of the ride home was stilted and awkward. Like so awkward that as soon as the car rolled to a stop Stiles bolted to the front porch just to get a reprieve. Unfortunately it wasn't a very adequate one.

        “Go upstairs and drop of your book bag. I need to have a talk with you.” His dad wasn't meeting his eyes.

        To delay the inevitable, Stiles actually walked up the stairs. He also dragged his feet to the point of giving himself a shock when he grabbed his door knob. This talk, whatever it was, could not hurt nearly as bad as the last go around. This one would not cause him to blame himself for his mothers pain for the indefinite future. It couldn't. He hadn't done anything to deserve it this time. He just had to keep reminding himself, it couldn't be as bad.  It couldn't.

        Dad was already seated in the kitchen by the time Stiles made it back to the kitchen. He had his hands held together and was looking at them as if they were the only things in the room. Stiles not wanting to break the air of whatever the hell was going on, slid the chair out across from his dad and took a seat. He took care not to speak, because with the way that his Dad's hands were shaking he really didn't want to know what this was about.

         “Stiles, Son, you know that your mom has been sick for a while, right?” His dad still hadn't looked up from his hands, but Stiles still gave a curt nod. The moment seemed too fragile for speaking. “

        “Her sick isn't a normal kind of sick. It's attacking her brain. She's having problems remember things, What day it is, when we got married, her favorite cereal.” His father let out a shuddering breath. “This morning she forgot that we were married.” he looked up and his eyes were blood shot, and so, **so** sad. “Stiles, she's dying, and the doctors don't think that she has much time left."

        Stiles had been so very completely wrong; This discussion sucked just as bad as the last one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, Things are fixin to get super bumpy, and there is some stuff that is going to *majorly* Squick some people out. I'll put warnings in every chapter,(warning that there are possible trigger warnings at top, the trigger warning itself at bottom), but just fyi this could get pretty damn bad pretty damn quick.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, Guys, I am so freaking sorry. I would like to say that time just got away from me, but my life kind of freaking sucks and it kind of decided to take a shit on my head. Again. (seriously, I have a friend who once told me that if they made my life into a story for TV people would call bullshit because no one's life should suck this bad.) SO here's an update. The second part blows, because I had absolutely no freaking *clue* on how to make that transition, so yeah.

        Stiles started as a hand shook him awake, “Come on kiddo, you're going to have to come in with me.”

        His brain was still muzzy as he looked up at his father, “wha...?” the first tendrils of dawn were coming in through the window, making it much earlier than he would have to be at school.

         “The hospital says that Mom isn't up for having you again today, so you are going to have to go into work with me.” Now that Stiles thinks about it, this happened last time too. Just last time his dad had said something along the lines of not being entitled to his mother's presence when he was going around picking fights. Either way it was still too early for this shit.

        Not fighting the inevitable, Stiles got up and blearily got ready for the day. If he remembered correctly, his dad had relented at a half day to let him go to the hospital. While that may not be something that is feasible in this time line, maybe in the same time span he could convince his dad to take him somewhere else.

        Stiles spent most of breakfast and the car ride in thinking about how the hell he was going to convince his dad into letting him go to the vet clinic. While it was feasible(his dad was feeling just guilty enough to let him go snuggle animals), that current plan wouldn't allow him to sit around unattended with the vet. Considering that the whole point of this soiree was so that he could get the man alone, it would be counterproductive to go to the vet clinic without it.

        The lack of brainstorming lead into the afternoon, where Stiles found himself coloring into a Batman coloring book(Yes, it was the only one he had, and no he never had enough black). That was when the current sheriff, a rough looking older man who would be retiring in three years, came in to the station. He took one look at Stiles, shook his head and barked out a “Stilinski, my office.”

        Dad took a deep breath, and with a slow exhale he stood up. On the way to Sheriff Johnson's' office he ruffled Stiles hair. Stiles, naturally, gave them a thirty second head start before he followed.

        “Look, Stilinski,” the sheriff is saying in a rough whisper. “This is not the right place for a kid. I know what is going on with your wife, but this isn't necessarily a safe place for him to be. What happens if a perp gets out of his cuffs while your kid is sitting there? There isn't a cop in that room that wouldn't take a bullet for him, by that doesn't mean we should risk it.”

        His dad lowered his head into his hands, “I don't have anywhere else I can take him Jimmy. The hospital hasn't cleared Claud for visitors, Melissa is working and there is no way in hell that I am leaving him with Rafael. I don't like leaving his own son with him, much less mine.”

        Stiles popped his head into the door, “Dad, Doctor Deaton was in our class the other day and said that I could come help him out at the clinic. He said something about helping out you and Mom while this was going on.”

        Dad laughed and shook his head, “Kid, only you could talk yourself into a job.”

        Well. Not really. Deaton hadn't actually been to the school, but Stiles figured that if he used his spark, there was a pretty good chance that Deaton would go with it just to see what was going on.

        “Not technically a job,” Stiles says rocking back on his heals. “Considering that I'm like, nine, it's a little bit illegal. Volunteering to pet kittens and puppies, on the other hand, I'm totally up for.” '

        Arriving at Deaton's was …interesting. He wasn't quite sure how no one notices the tingle that passes over your skin when you're within 30 feet of the building, but damn. In his time(nope, still not feeling right), the perimeter of the shop doesn't actually kick in until you're inside the clinic. The thought process of what could have possibly made that change isn't exactly a happy one.

         Dad pulls open the door and a husky laugh booms out. A husky laugh with a touch of malice accompanied by a familiar back and waterfall of blonde hair.

         What in the hell was _Kate fucking Argent_ doing at Doctor Deaton's.

 

        Years in the future a young man is sitting in a corner in shadow, keeping his head down into his arms, His black hair and clothes help him blend into the background. A heart monitor in the background gives off the only noise in the room. Quietly a door snicks open and an athletically built blond strides into the room. Almost instantaneously the teen locks sites on the young man and beelines to that corner. At his arrival he slams his back into the wall and slumps to the floor. After a few moments of silence he turns his head to the brunet, “How's Stilinski doing?”

        The brunet looks up as his hazel eyes focus on the hospital bed where Stiles still form was laid. Had anyone told Derek before that he would have missed Stiles generally flailing about, he would have laughed in their faces. “He's stable. The doctors say that there is nothing physically wrong with him, there was no signs of physical trauma, there wasn't anything on the CT scan either.”

       The heart beat that they had been following suddenly tripped and sped up. Derek's eyes flashed red, but as the heart beat stabilized it wavered into an iridescent blue.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm hoping that I will have an update a lot sooner than this most recent one(I didn't wind up homeless this time, so I still have internet and the time to do things now, in theory).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Merry Christmas. Here, lets have baby Stiles fucking some shit up.  
> P.S. Fairly certain Kate is a touch ooc, and Deputy Stilinski pulled some crap that isn't *technically* legal, but yeah.

        The problem with Stiles brain being in his childhood body? Well, More than just the obvious, was that almost Adult(he should really start thinking himself as an adult, it'd make this less confusing) Stiles knows how to use his magic. IF you take in consideration of all the stress of the whole body swap thing, and then take away his adderall Stiles control is shot. It's the only excuse he can give when he sees _Kate Fucking Argent_ and all of a sudden the ground is shaking and the lights go out. Stiles takes more than just a little vindictive pleasure when Kate loosing her balance and actually topples to the floor.  So he's a little shit, she is a mass murdering psychopath who is currently planning on burning 12 people to death.

        Unfortunately, even if know one else in the room knows that this is Stiles throwing a colossal temper tantrum, Deaton sure as hell does.  His eyes had snap to Stiles as soon as the quake starts. Without breaking eye contact Stiles asks, “Are you ok, Ms. Argent?:

        Deaton's eyes harden as he turns to Kate, “I believe that you said your name was Silver.”

        Kate stands up, brushes off her pants, and tilts her head at Stiles. Her eyes sweep over him calculatingly.

        Stiles latches onto his fathers hand and squeezes. “It is, technically. Argent means silver in french.”

        Kates smile becomes a little more brittle and her eyes a little more cold, “How do you know that sweetie?”

        Stiles bares his own teeth, “I saw you with Cora's older brother when he was waiting in the parking lot to pick her up. I asked a teacher who you were because I hadn't seen you before and he said that you teach french at the high school and you just moved here from France. He had said that he was jealous because he'd never been.”

        The temperature in the room suddenly drops a full ten degrees.] Dad pulls Stiles slightly behind his body as Deaton faces Kate completely. She takes a menacing step towards Stiles. “What teacher?” her lip curls baring teeth in a way that is more similar to a wolf than she probably realizes.

       "Mr. Harris,” Stiles says flatly as he raises his chin defiantly.

        Kate takes another step towards them, practically snarling. Dad drops Stiles hand to bring it to his side arm. Deaton takes a step towards Kate, “Ma'am I don't know what my son could have possibly said to upset you, but I'm going to have to ask you to not to step towards him again.”

        “Deputy,” Kate croons as she takes another large step towards them. “I don't think that I'm...”

        Kate stalls out as Dad unholsters his weapons and aims it at her. “Ma'am, I asked you not to take another step towards us. I'm going to have to ask you to leave or every action from this point forward will be seen as a threat upon our person.”

       Kate looks between the fire arm pointing at her and Deaton, who If you know anything about the supernatural you would be able to sense the magical build up and relaxes her positioning. She tilts her head to the side and cracks her neck. “Sorry Deputy,” Kate shrinks in on herself an gives a completely unbelievable fake consoling smile. “There's a man staking me,” Stiles has to work to contain his snort. “He apparently caught up to me, even with the name change. I didn't mean to take it out on your son.”

       Dad doesn't lower his weapon. Kate nods once shortly, and while keeping Dad in her sights, slowly circles towards and out the door. It takes another minute or so for Dad to holster his weapon and for Deaton to relax his magic. As soon as Dad releases his fire arm he's on the radio to the station. “County One to dispatch”.

        Tara picks up the end almost immediately, “Dispatch to County One, you're good to go.”

        Dad cards his hand through Stiles hair, “Can we run a background check on a Kate Argent, also known as Silver.”

        Tara pauses for a moment, “Any particular reason John?”

        Dad grimaces, “ Aside from the fact that she is going by a fake name? When Stiles informed us of her given name she became so threatening that I had to pull my service weapon.”

        “Putting a request in now, over and out.”

        Static rings through as dispatch drops out. Dad then turns towards Deaton, “Stiles tells me that you said he could come by to help out with stuff.”

       Deaton focuses in on Stiles, “Yes I did. I know that you and Claudia are having a hard time right now, and Stiles is certainly full of enough surprises. I would enjoy having him here.”

        Dad squeezes Stiles shoulder, “I'll be here after my shift bud. With any luck your mom will be up to seeing us later.”

        Stiles nods his head distractedly, “Love you Dad.” The deputy quickly exits out of the front door. Stiles crosses his arms and tilts his chin. With the most power he can put into his squeaky little voice he demands, “I,Stiles Stilinski, call on your position as emissary and guide to the Hale pack. I request that you set up a meeting with Alpha Talia Hale and her mate. She may bring any beta other than Peter Hale. The consequences of the refusal of this meeting may be death of all but one member of their pack, caused by circumstances out of my control that I hope to circumvent.”

Deaton's face seems to become more placid, “And on behalf of whom and I doing this for?”

A sly smirk crosses Stiles face, “Emissary Mieczysław Stilinski of the Hale pack lead by Derek Hale.”

“Derek Hale is not an Alpha,” Deaton states raising an eyebrow.

Stiles lets out a laugh, “He is in the year 2016.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude I rewrote the part with Kate half a dozen times, and this one was the least obnoxiously out of character. Sorry guys.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter, this is going to squick some people out.  
> ************ I'm putting the trigger warnings in the end notes, because it may be triggering.**********  
>  Nothing in the chapter is graphic, and it honestly may just be covered by the 'Kate Argent is a complete twat' warning, but I personally find it a little more upsetting than that. so yeah.

          Deaton brought Stiles to the back office and left him there, presumably so Deaton could call Talia without having a nine year old eavesdroper. Stiles wasn't exactly sure how Deaton was going to convince Talia to take the Stiles seriously, but then again it wasn't like the man had a sense of humor. Talia must know him well enough by now to assume that a prank was out of the question.

          All in all it took about fifteen minutes for Deaton to call Talia and cancel everything that wasn't pressing for the day. Or, that's at least what Stiles assumed Deaton was doing when he came into the office to retrieve his keys.

          About the time that Stiles had started to kick the rung of his chair out of boredom, (what did anyone really expect from him? He still had ADHD and he _still_ wasn't medicated) a woman swept into the room. She was tall with long, wild dark hair and dark brown eyes. Stopping a few feet form the doorway she looked to Stiles as her eyebrow slowly rose. She quickly did another quick scan of the room before turning her body towards him.

          “Am I to take it that you, child, are Emissary Stilinski?” Her voice was on the corner of annoyance and contempt, as though to say,'Who decided that it was a good idea to let a kid dictate my day?'

          Stiles slowly rolled his neck to where he rested his head on his shoulder as he looked up at her. His look going with, 'Fine, you want to be annoyed by me, I can show you childish.' “That would be me Alpha Hale,” He kept on kicking the chair, this conversation was going to go nowhere fast.

          Talia paced around the room once, body language loose, the entire thing vaguely reminiscent of a caged tiger. “You requested that I did not bring my enforcer. Why?”

          Stiles bared his teeth, not giving a damn that it would be considered a direct challenge to her authority, “Why would I allow an audience to a man, whom at present, has orchestrated the death of a teenage girl, and in future, becomes a serial killer who hunts his own family?”

          Talia stops in her tracks and her eyes flash a brilliant crimson, “I beg your pardon?” There was a growl, that had Stiles not dealt with Peter Fucking Hale at an earlier date, probably would have terrified him.

          “Paige,” Stiles can feel how his voice is acidic and bitter, not really meshing with the image of the nine year old he was currently required to uphold. “I know you aren't stupid enough to believe he wasn't involved in that. Unfortunately the man had taken... Precautions, to make sure that the bite wouldn't take. Six years form now, Peter will kill Laura and will spend the next year attempting to put Derek in the ground with her.” Stiles paused thoughtfully, “Well a little less than a year, there were those two months where Peter was dead. Such a shame he didn't stay that way.”

          Deaton, the freaking creeper that he is, apparently materialized into the room at some point during Stiles monologue.

          “How's his heart?” Deaton asked shooting a look in Talia's direction.

          Talia's eyes still hadn't left Stiles form, “Tell a lie.” She ordered.

          Stiles raised his chin defiantly, “I hate Derek Hale.” Talia gave a slow nod and took a seat.

          Talia flicked her eyes to Deaton, “He was telling the truth about Peter.”

          Crossing his arms and tightening his jaw Stiles threw Talia a glare, “Now, I want to know where the _hell_ you get off allowing Peter's continued existence. If you had dealt with him properly the fucking _first time_ , and I don't know, actually _helped_ Derek through a grieving process, none of this shit would have happened. None of Peter convincing Derek that this was all his fault, and that none of you cared, so he wouldn't have to go to Kate Argent to find comfort. So he wouldn't have slept with the woman that burned his entire family to the ground.”

          Talia's eyes didn't flash like lightening, they glowed like the embers of a hot fire, “Slept with?” The growl shook the picture frames that Deaton kept on his desk.

          Stiles gave her an 'are you an idiot look,' “Had sex with, copulate, fornicate. Exactly what I just said.”

          Deaton had a white knuckle grip on his desk, and the growl that rendered from Talia's throat was more reminiscent of an alpha roar, “My baby is _thirteen_.”

          It took Stiles a full thirty seconds to process what had just been said, when he finally did he shot up and looked between Talia and Deaton frantically, “He's in high school.” Stiles could feel himself grasping at straws.

          Talia nodded slowly, “He's a freshman and he skipped a grade in elementary school. He'll be fourteen in December.”

          Stiles felt all the blood drain from his face as his stomach tried to barrel roll out of his body. The way that Derek carried his guilt Stiles had always thought he'd been older. A seventeen year old has a reasoning capacity that a thirteen year old just isn't capable of. It had made a twisted kind of sense that if Derek were almost an adult if very well could have been something that he should have noticed. Not to say that Kate was Derek's fault, but the guilt is easier to understand. At thirteen Derek hadn't even gone through puberty yet, Derek was a child. The term Statutory rape implies in most thoughts that it was consensual in some form that one party was just too young. This was the rape of a child, molestation, taking something from someone who didn't even have the capacity to give it is so much worse. Derek blames all of this on himself, thinking that this was something that he could have prevented had he noticed something, but there wasn't a single fucking adult who came in to contact with this child and noticed that someone was eating at his soul and stealing something that he didn't have the ability to protect. So help him, if Stiles isn't early enough to prevent this form happening to Derek, he's going to rip out Kate's intestines and _feed them to her_.

          The fury that was pouring off of Stiles in waves must have done something to reassure Talia because here eyes faded back to her dark brown.

          “The fire doesn't happen for another month and a half. Maybe we get lucky and she hasn't raped Derek yet.” Stiles clenched his fist.

          “But?” Deaton asked with a raised eyebrow.

          “But,” Stiles rubbed his temples. “She started in on Derek about two weeks after Paige died. That was what, almost two months ago?”

          Deaton crossed his arms, “Assuming that all of this actually happens. How do we know that you are actually from the future and not a kid with an overactive imagination?”

          “Because no kid imagines their mother dying, mass murders, fucking kanimas and alpha packs lead by Duecalion, who is now blind by the way.” Stiles looks at Deaton, “But you knew that already, didn't you.”

          “Stiles,” Deaton says gently, “It takes a lot of power to time travel. Even just a conscious. Have you considered that this all may be a dream?”

          Stiles shrugged, “I considered the possibility. IF it's a dream I'm currently lucid dreaming, which means that I'm in control. You people are fighting me way to hard for this shit, besides, even if the original magic caster didn't have the power to send me back here I know what did.” Well. Now that he was thinking about it, he did anyway. Deaton looked skeptical. Which, admittedly, was understandable.

          Looking between them Stiles took a deep breath, “You guys haven't cut down the Nemeton yet, have you? Because I'm pretty sure that it sent me back to prevent it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***trigger warning**** Derek is way closer to 'child' than adult in this particular au. The story calls it what it is, child rape. It is non-graphic, but idk about you sex with a 13 year old bothers me a hell of a lot more than with a 17 year old.


	8. chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, guys I'm so very sorry. I had been working 40 hours a week when I started this. After my last update my boss's decided we all needed ot. This weekend has been the first weekend in months I've had both days off, and that is only because i took vacation time for a convention(If any of y'all were at A-kon in Dallas and ran into the awkward brunette who was hiding beneath the tables between writing panels, that was me). On the plus side, I went to like 10 separate writing panels so I actually got a shit ton of stuff written and will be trying to stay consistent(I'm working on this and like four different cosplay, plus *both* a Lolita and a steam punk costume, some shit is about to break and the cosplay can't because it's a group thing).   
> *Side note that actually pertains to the story* so I Decided that I actually really fucking need post nogitsune Stiles, because pre-nogitsune Stiles? No where *near* dark enough for what somehow happened to this story. So, yeah. Because this? This get's *pretty* fucked up.

Deaton and Talia glanced at each other, “You think someone tapped the nemeton and sent you back to save it?” 

“No,” Stiles said slowly, “I think the nemeton saw the witches curse as an opportunity and sent me back.”

“The nemeton isn't sentient Stiles,” Deaton was definitely giving him a 'delusional child' look. “how would it know?”

Stiles growled, “There was a Darach.” He threw Deaton a dark look, just because the emissary was his only choice didn't mean he'd actually trust the man. He already proved himself unworthy of that. “Long story short to keep our parents from dying we had to fake sacrifice ourselves and now I'm linked to the stupid tree. 

“OK, start from the beginning,” The growl in Talia's voice both somehow contained a tone of, 'Do not bullshit me, child' and 'whoever hurt this child is going to have their throat ripped out slowly and painfully'.

So Stiles, however reluctantly, started from the beginning.

He talked about how one night he had the, ridiculously, impossibly stupid idea to go looking for half of a body that the police had failed to find. He talked about how the body had turned out to be Laura Hale, and the unfortunate timing that was just Scott, that had him running into the brand new alpha that her murder had created. He informed them about the absolute clusterfuck that was Peter Hale as the alpha and Scott's first months as a werewolf. Derek's killing of Peter and taking of the alpha power to avenge Laura was used as a segue to inform them about the kanima, Gerard, and Matt. Taking extra care, because if he did this right Stiles could save a shit ton of lives, he explained who was involved in the Alpha pack and how them murdering their beta's allowed them to obtain power, to Talia specifically. After all, Deaton was already privy to that information. During his explanation of the darach and how she took advantage of Derek with magik he glared at Talia for not telling Derek that it was a possibility. Stiles decided that while he explained the false sacrifices, he probably shouldn't make eye contact with either of the adults in the room, but he couldn't control the violent tremors that started to wrack the clinic as he went into the explanation of how the experience opened him for the god damn nogitsune. The shit storm that was the dead pool was followed shortly later by the fact that, yeah, cutting down the nemeton? Didn't work. The dread doctors came back, but this time they brought with them chimeras. The benefit of that though, is that Stiles now not only knows how to get rid of the fuckers permanently, but he now also knows how seal the death trap that is the nemeton. 

Looking up, Stiles held Talia's gaze, “Look, even if I can't convince you about Kate, I can help with the nemeton I propose a trade.”

Talia's gaze is a cool appraising look. She waves her hand in a circle, a clear 'go-ahead' look. 

“I purify the nemeton and give you the spell and information that you will need to get rid of the dread doctors.” Stiles took a rallying breath.

“What would we be doing for you?” Deaton asked calmly.

“You would be doing nothing for me,” Stiles snapped as he turned towards Talia. “You let my dad in on werewolves, and offer my mom the bite. She has weeks before she forgets my existence. To make sure that consent is actually feasible it would have to be explained to her soon, or my dad will have to make the decision. All you have to do is offer, my end of the bargain isn't dependent on her saying yes.”

There was a pregnant pause before Talia lifted her head in challenge, “And if I refuse?”

Stiles stomach dropped out. “You would be an idiot,” Stiles clenched his jaw. “Regardless of how you answer I'm going to probably take care of Kate and the tree, if only for my own safety. There are a few other things that you should consider though; my dad is going to be Sheriff in a couple of years. Having law enforcement in the know would make this entire damn town safer, not to mention when shit hits the fan he'll be able to push investigations off track. Plus, there is a reason that I wind up Hale Emissary. Currently I am in the body of a nine year old with no control, but I have more magik than both Deaton and his sister combined at 16. I can only imagine how much that will be as an adult. Do you really want to risk the chance that I remember this conversation? Because if I do, if I know that you had a way to save my mothers life, and you didn't after I saved literally every single one of your family members lives, and your life and you didn't even try to save her?” Stiles voice dropped and his skin tingled in a way that indicated the use of magic. The look in his eye was something closer to the look that he had when he was possessed by the nogitsune, high control with an edge of insanity. “No matter how strong your pack, or your links to the community, if I find out that you had a way to save her and didn't, I. Will. End. You.” With that he let loose a wave of magic that slammed the alpha into the wall. Not one to skip out on dramatic exits stiles took the time to swept out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, I had a comment less than five freaking minutes after my last post. I feel so loved. This is super shore *But* really important, so yay?

        Even with Stiles being the over dramatic shit that he is, didn't mean that with his antics that he could actually _leave._ For all intents and purposes, Stiles is currently a nine year old(and boy what he would give to not only see Talia put in her place by a mini Stiles, but also his crazy eyes via cherubic child. That would be simultaneously hysterical **and** terrifying). He can't just spontaneously disappear; his dad would in all likelihood shoot Deaton and there is way more than enough on his plate without having to add in a missing child and a wrongful shooting case.

         When Deaton finds Stiles half an hour later he's curled up in the large dog kennel with an overly friendly Akita. Both the dog and Stiles give Deaton a baleful look when he opens the kennel to usher Stiles out.

          Deaton crosses his arms and lifts a brow, “How did you wind up with the position on Hale Emissary, Mr. Stilinski?”

         Stiles feels his whole body go cold. “Because you, Deaton, had your tittle forcibly removed once it was discovered how little regard you held for it.” the acid dripping from Stiles tone was enough to make Deaton flinch. “Your tittle was given to me once you revealed that to you, balance was more important than human life. After it was discovered that you knew how to cure the Kanima, that you, Deaton were the one that tipped off the Alpha Pack to Scott's possibility of being a true alpha. After Peter, of all people, Peter Fucking Hale, informed us that you killed us for information that you already had. Don't you dare think that you are to thank for my capabilities, this is very much self taught.” Stiles voice was almost a full fledged growl at the end trying to rein in the anger that he hadn't had the capability to vent as a teenager. As soon as Stiles had finished complying enough information to actually prove it to Scott, Deaton had fled the city leaving no evidence of his presence.

         Somewhere in the background, Stiles could hear a door slamming. So good, Talia heard all of that. If anything this would at least help prevent some of the issues that Deaton's presence causes. IF Stiles had to, he would go find Derek and hope that he'd head the warnings of an insane kid years later.

        Now that Stiles had successfully pissed of the literally most dangerous people in all of Beacon Hills, he could honestly say that he probably shouldn't have threatened a whole bunch of adults.

          In a month's time kid him was going to have a group of very deadly people not only angry with him, but seeing him as a possible threat. Oh, look, there is that panic attack he'd been expecting.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any recommendations for tags, let me know.  
> This feels super forced to me, which makes me sad, because it is so good in my head. I am just having issues finding the right words(and verb tense, and person) showing what I want you to see.


End file.
